


Not Nineteen Forever

by SymphoniaXI



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Chelsea FC, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Think I Can Do This Again, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am in danger of going too far, I blame the carabao cup, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, chelsea head coach cheating on villa assistant coach, deccers knows nothing either, other cfc players implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphoniaXI/pseuds/SymphoniaXI
Summary: *after the Chelsea 6-0 Barnsley game*Mason had gotten a boner half an hour ago when Frank came over to hug him on the pitch. Frank was smiling at Mason in such a way that Mason's heart was beating like crazy. He had exchanged his kit with one Barnsley player and was wearing only his tights in Frank's arms, his chest drenched in sweat in a big way. The only thing he had in mind at this point was Frank. He desired him, desperately.
Relationships: Mason Mount/Frank Lampard
Kudos: 28





	Not Nineteen Forever

Mason had sexual fantasies about Frank, who always appeared in Mason's dreams in the blue coach training kit he wore most often. They'd kissing and banging in his dream. However, at this moment, Mason was sitting in the locker room of Stamford Bridge, Kai's lustful screams in his ears, and Ben and Ross whispering next to him. His mind was letting off fireworks. And yet he couldn't jack off right now. Mason felt so tormented.

Mason had gotten a boner half an hour ago when Frank came over to hug him on the pitch. Frank was smiling at Mason in such a way that Mason's heart was beating like crazy. He had exchanged his kit with one Barnsley player and was wearing only his tights in Frank's arms, his chest drenched in sweat in a big way. The only thing he had in mind at that point was Frank. He desired him, desperately.

He didn't enter the bathroom until everyone had finished their shower, his cock was hard as rock now. he waited as the sounds of his teammates fading away outside, eventually there was no sound at all. He finally reached down to his aching cock and began to jerk himself off quickly, he closed his eyes imagining Frank's voice and face, memorising the scene Frank directed the game on the touchline today. a few minutes later he cum on the bathroom wall. He felt cold, so he turned up the water temperature. Then he started to put shampoo on his hair and had a long shower before he came out.

What he didn't expect was that when he was in the parking lot about to approach his car, Frank came from the other side towards his own car. Mason felt a lack of oxygen in his brain and couldn't think or breathe. His hair was still damp and he was in a silly tracksuit, he didn't know why he was heading towards his gaffer. What he said next threw him off even more.

"Could you take me to your place?"

"What?" The gaffer was taken aback by what he heard.

"I have something to tell you."

"About today's match? Actually I think you did quite well. I know you were frustrated with the missed shots, never mind, it was a good match for the team today. You don't need to put too much pressure on yourself, there will be many more chances ahead of you, you know that."

"Thanks, gaffer. but," he said haltingly, "it's not just the match. Frank, I really need to talk to you, personally."

"Well, then get in the car. "

Mason hadn't been expecting Frank to say yes so easily at all, he began to sweat as he got into Frank's car. he regretted being so impulsive and immature. But things were already here, Mason had no choice but to face what was about to happen next.

Soon they were at the Lampard's. John wasn't at home. Ah, of course he's away, he's in Birmingham at the moment. Mason figured. So all these days and nights Frank was alone and unoccupied? Mason stopped himself from thinking further.

Frank asked Mason what he wanted to drink, and before Mason could answer, Frank laughed to himself, "I'm nuts to ask you what you wanna drink. Would I be some sort of head coach who allows his player to have sugary drinks? You have a training session tomorrow, all you can have is water."

Mason took the cup from Frank and thanked him. The next second he put the cup aside and directly kissed Frank.

Frank shouted and pushed him away, "What the fuck are you doing!??"

"I have to tell you or I'm going to be insane," Mason was losing his mind. he thought, I don't need to be rational, I'm fucking out of control today, even if I get dropped to U23 by tomorrow morning, or be sold to whatever shit club, I'm up for it.

"I like you, Frank, I really do."

"You really are insane. " The gaffer looked at him incredulously, the blood flushed into his face.

"I'm not kidding. "

"Is today the first of April? "

"Nope. "

"Are you hurt somewhere? Did you bump your head during the match today? "

"Listen to me, I'm serious. "

The Chelsea head coach shook his head, "Mason, you should go. Let's just pretend what just happened never existed, shall we? "

Mason stubbornly said, "No, Frank, I know you want it too, don't you? Just face your heart."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Mason pointed to his gaffer's crotch, where there was already a bulge.

"Fuck." Frank said.

Mason smirked, "What are you trying to explain to me, my gaffer? Better let me help you with that. "

Frank was silent for a little while.

"But I'm old enough to be your father." Finally he said hesitantly.

"So what do you want me to call you, Daddy?"

"Stop it, Mason."

"But I want you." Mason reached down for the older man's belt.

The gaffer looked into the No.19's dark eyes at a loss. the youngster was so out of sorts today, like a complete mental... how could this happen. He'd practically watched him grow up, from the training ground at Cobham, then he took him to Derby County, watching him become a less immature professional midfielder. when he returned to Stamford Bridge last summer, he brought this boy home along himself without any hesitation. _He said he liked me? Since when?_ They had been spending all those years together on a daily basis, and the more Frank thought about it the more frightened he became. and then he realized that his jeans were undone. A strong sense of shame had left him momentarily incapacitated. The youngster winked, knelt down and pressed his lips on his cock.

His dignity as a premier league top 4 team manager had been pushed beyond the bounds of reason and forced out of rationality. One moment he was thinking about maintaining his image as Chelsea's gaffer, and the next, his fragile will crumbled, surprisingly only wanting the gaping hole of lust to be filled, no matter who the other one was and no matter how severe the consequences this would cause.

Mason lifted his head, Frank noticed a shiny sloppy rim around the young midfielder's mouth. Then the No.19's tongue entered into his mouth the second time, he kissed him roughly and deeply. The older man was compelled to entwine their tongues together. _Who did he learn all these from? Declan? what are the odds?_ But Frank couldn't find any other more likely answer than that West Ham lad who has a pretty little face. _Or...is it Tammy? or Christian?_ as Americans seems to have more kinks?

Their tongues were striving, and Mason's teeth nearly cracked his gaffer's lower lip. Frank's cock, having just been licked a couple of times, was now particularly swollen and distended, he reached into Mason's hair at no hesitation, then pressed Mason's head down with great force.

He heard the boy chuckle before his cock was once again wrapped around the warm moist little mouth. He gripped Mason's hair so tight he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. Mason gulped his own gaffer's cock with great relish, all these external stimuli making it hard to breathe but also incredibly pleasurable.

Within minutes, Frank's body shuddered like he had been electrocuted, and an extremely blinding white light exploded in front of his eyes. Mason was up, cum dripping down the corners of his mouth, looking incomparably slutty. So slutty that Frank felt terribly ashamed of himself.

"Daddy, do you like it? Do you want more, Frankie Daddy?"

A subtle but ongoing flutter had tickled Frank's bottom, leaving him in a state of increasing craving to be fiercely fucked. he took Mason's one hand and led him into he and John's bedroom.

Frank fell on the mattress, and the next thing he knew was a finger thrusting into him, unceremoniously poking and scratching to deeper place until it found the point which could bring all of pleasure to the older man. The No.19's burning breath was on the gaffer's most sensitive skin, then the older man was gagged. Then the second finger. and the third. Frank's rectal wall was pressed down just a few times and he couldn't stop moaning. but his mouth was jammed, he couldn't scream, all he could was let out some faint nasal sound.

The youngster took off his sweatpants and bent one of the older man's legs to the side, "Daddy, I'm coming in."

The Chelsea head coach eventually couldn't resist glancing down, but he had zero preparation for the overstimulating sight. The head of Mason's cock squeezed into the not-quite-fully-expanded hole with a brutal thrust. Frank gasped at the soreness of the sudden filling and the gradual rush of pleasure. As the thrusts came up unreserved, with no regard for skill, Mason just rammed his gaffer's prostate roughly and aggressively over and over again. and within a few strokes, the gaffer, who hadn't had sex in a long time, was clamping his legs. His hole was spasming due to the hyper stimulation.

"Mace..." the gaffer tried to instruct his player to slow down a bit, but the midfielder refused to do so. Besides, Frank's words all came out as erotic moans.

Being shagged by a his-own-player 20 years younger than himself on his own bed made Frank Lampard feel an utter sense of humiliation and exhilaration at the same time. He is the absolute dominator on the pitch, with the authority to pick his starting eleven, to has the final word on the tactics in each match. now the hormones still lingering from their win against Barnsley were once again greatly aroused, with his young boy's strokes now about to reach their peak.

"Cum for me." His No.19 said.

"Mace...please." It took all of Frank's strength to exhale.

"Are you telling me to fuck you faster?" the No.19 leaned in and bite his gaffer's ear, with his cock thrusting even greater. "Is that what you used to say to John? Daddy?"

All that was left in Frank's head was the instinctive thrill of being fucked wildly and being possessed stormily. He was on the verge to cum. but the young man stopped abruptly, leaving Frank's hole throbbing with so much tension he couldn't bear.

"How many people have done this to you?" Mason moved again, but slowly. this time just some shallow pokes, making the older man, who had been feeling a huge deal of excitement before, almost cry. Frank didn't know how to answer that question even when he was clearheaded, especially to one of his favourite players who is young enough to be his son in terms of age.

"I'll say it for you if you don't. John Terry. Steven Gerard? Big Pete? and Jody? Is there anyone else?" with each word uttered, Mason Mount fucked his gaffer as hard as he could, shoving his cock into the deepest spot in Frank Lampard's hole.

The Chelsea head coach took his No.19's hand and put it on his tip. He cummed into his palm.

"Feels good, Daddy?" the attacking midfielder giggled before he cummed inside of his gaffer. they both collapsed on the bed, and even had they played a 120 minute match, they wouldn't have been panting any heavier than they were now.

"Not that disappointed with those two missed shots today, are you? Today was Kai's day, and next time it'll be yours, son." said Frank, caressing Mason's hair.


End file.
